Strangers
by d i n o b o t
Summary: Misty lives a respective life, but one of overwhelming emptiness. She contemplates about the one she dearly loves, and the only one who can ever fill that emptiness. Pokeshipping, is there any other? Continuation to 'Burning in the Hanging Fire.'


**disclaimer** – this is an AAML fic inspired by the song '_we might as well be strangers_' by _keane_. If you haven't listened to _keane's_ '_hopes and fears_' and/or '_under the iron sea_' I strongly recommend you do so. This fic originally was going to be its own story but I changed it to be the sequel to one of my earlier fics 'burning in the hanging fire.' It is almost essential to read that before or after this one to appreciate this story and to recognize the subtle correlations between the two.

we might as well be strangers  
by – dinobot

_this is dedicated for those mute in tongue and heart_.

--

'And here comes the kick—it's good!'

"Misty…" a young girl complained as she was tucked into her pink and yellow bed sheets. Misty softy stroked her short messy auburn hair to calm her from fidgeting in her blankets.

"I know, I know," Misty reassured the little girl, "I'm sorry, I forgot to turn the television down. I'll lower the volume after I tuck you in."

The young girl relaxed, smiling to Misty's words softly easing and comforting her. She snuggled in the smooth blankets, resting her head on her pillow sinking halfway in. Misty smiled delicately, gently stroking the little girl's hair until she drifted off to sleep. Misty bent down and delicately kissed the smaller girl on the forehead. She carefully pulled herself off the bed and walked cautiously out the room. Misty shut the lights off and noiselessly shut the little one's door.

"Goodnight, April."

Misty walked down the hallway immediately searching for the remote. She turned down the volume of the football game and placed it on the arm of the couch. She opened the door to the refrigerator, with a disappointed groan grabbed a dented water bottle and took her place in front of the televison set. She took a few sips before hearing the doorknob giggle. Misty jumped to her feet with a small line of water running from her mouth. She wiped it off with her arm before opening the door.

As soon as Misty cracked open the door a millimeter a force on the other side pushed it forcefully the rest of the way. Misty barely jumped out of the way of the door's swinging path. She crashed back into the wall. An adult man flew through the door throwing his coat on the floor and kicking off his shoes heading right to the television.

"Did you tape the game? What's the score? Did the Magmar win?" the man asked while crudely shoving Misty aside.

Misty quivered with annoyance. Daisy peered from the threshold and helped her sister up.

"I'm sorry for Danny's behavior," she tried to explain "but you know how he loves his football."

Daisy's reason did not appease her. She groaned in annoyance. If the ignorant oaf wasn't married to her sister she would have pounded him flat. Misty walked to the table in the kitchen grabbing her small purse and keys.

"Misty, can I talk to you for a minute?" Daisy called to her while picking up her husband's remains sprawled on the carpet.

"Sure," Misty responded, throwing her purse strap over her shoulder. Daisy put Danny's shoes in their respective place and folded his jacket neatly.

"Misty," she began. "Thank you for babysitting tonight, but I'm afraid we can't pay you till next week."

"Oh, that's fine," Misty assured her with a wave of her hand.

"Really?" Daisy asked knowing she had done this to her little sister many times; her face sown a hue of red in embarrassment.

Misty nodded her head to confirm. "Yes, really. It's no problem." Misty turned and sat on the couch next to her obnoxious brother-in-law shouting indistinct remarks to the television set. Misty sighed and reminded him she had just put his daughter to bed.

"Uh, Danny do you mind if I watch something? I taped the game for you," she asked.

"No can do," Danny stoically replied still glued to the television.

Misty continued. "It's just that I was looking forward to watching this special on T.V. and it's on in a few minutes. I was wondering if you'd be so kind to let me watch it?"

"Sure you can borrow it," Danny replied in complete oblivion. Misty gave a displeasing groan. In all her years of living she couldn't figure out how men can become so inconceivably dense with something as frivolous as television. Through all her irritation a small smile briefly crept across her face. She was reminded of someone she once knew.

"Fine," Misty angrily responded.

Misty sighed looking at the circle shaped clock on the wall. She would have to make the trip back to her apartment in less than five minutes. She said her quick goodbyes to her sister and brother-in-law and quickly ran out the door. Misty hurried to her car, fumbling with her keys before finding the right one to put in the door. She immediately drove out of the parking lot speeding down the street. She would not miss this. Nothing was going to stop her.

Misty's mind began to wonder as she drove. The street's neon signs and street lights blurred past her car racing down the city street. They hypnotized her. Misty breathed deeply as she was randomly pulled back to reality. She looked into her car clock – 1:31am.

It was late. The streets were understandably vacant as she drove passed them. Only a few lost souls wandered the hollow streets this late. Then there was her, lonely and neglected. Only her car remained on the road, without the company of busy city traffic. Misty sighed softly. Driving lonesome became troubling, almost frightening.

If she were to need help on the long road to her destination who would help her? Who would aid her? She didn't know anyone in the city except for a few family members, and they weren't at all close to being reliable. Misty quickly looked out of her sun roof to see the sky.

The towering buildings and full metal skyscrapers shielded her sight from the night sky. Misty slightly trembled. She could always see the brilliant night sky and the radiant pale moon in the wilderness where civilization and society became subject to words like 'adventure' and 'excitement.' She had not felt those things in so long.

She had not traveled the land and the surrounding territories for years. Misty more than missed it, she longed for it. Sure there were obstacles in every line of life gave you, but at least she wasn't alone. She had someone to be with her. A boy.

Misty sharply turned the wheel as the distracting thoughts diverted her from the road. Misty realigned the car into her lane before the car tediously drifted to the sidewalk. The tires piercingly screeched and ran over a puddle of sewer water spraying a figure walking alone on the side walk.

Misty gulped nervously as she peered back into her rear view mirror apologizing to the victim to herself. The figure shook agitated and continued to fade further away.

---

Misty unlocked the door to her two bedroom apartment. She kicked off her shoes and flung her jacket on the couch and immediately turned on the television.

She had been waiting days to catch this program. _Classic Pokemon Championship Battles: Orange Island League._ On hearing about the show from an ecstatic co-worker and from the newspaper she was determined to see it. The network already showed the Indigo League Championship battles and now was featuring the Orange Islands. Misty grabbed a small pillow and held it against her chest in anticipation. She smirked when the commercials ended.

_"Hello, and welcome to another exciting presentation of Classic Pokemon Championship battles. Today we're going to feature the Orange Islands Championship battles. One of these battles is of special interest. Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town is the youngest trainer to beat the Champion under the age of 15. The impressive young pokemon handler beat the Champion his first time in one of the most impressive battles in Orange League history!" _

"Ash," Misty smiled and cheered to herself, clutching the pillow tighter. She eagerly watched the entire show. She remembered the day, she was so proud of Ash.

First Pikachu defeated Drake's Ditto spawning a 3-0 run for the challenger. Next came a double K.O of Ash's Lapras and Drake's Gengar, then Taurus took out Venusaur. After Ash lost Bulbasaur to an electric pokemon he turned to his powerhouse pokemon: Charizard and defeated Drake's Electabuzz easily. Then came Drake's awesome Dragonite and defeated all but one of Ash's pokemon. Ash sent out Pikachu for one final showdown. It was a strong and well fought battle on both sides, but Ash came the victor beating Drake with his valued pokemon partner.

The camera zoomed closer to the challenger Ash Ketchum exuberant from his great victory. The crowds shook the stadium with their shouts and screams congratulating the new champion. Misty and Tracey took Ash's hands and waved them in the air. It was a memorial occasion; Misty could remember it so clear and vividly.

The show ended, leaving Misty in an unresolved state. She shut off the television. As if it were the only thing she could do, she curled up on her couch clinging to the pillow. It gave her comfort to have something to hold on to. She sobbed softly. She missed Ash. But this was not a mere wishing for the boy's presence. No, this is a strong longing, a desire. It had been so long since Misty heard his voice, let alone seen him.

It had been years since they last parted. Misty sobbed; she couldn't even remember what the boy looked like, smelled like, felt like! She knew him then when they were children, small boys and girls running around catching pokemon. But now? She didn't know him now! Could he have changed?

Misty racked her mind, fighting to think of the boy's characteristics. He was adventurous, optimistic, strong, dense (can't forget that one), but always good at heart. Misty ran her hand through her fire like hair.

"He probably doesn't even remember me," Misty said herself. "Yeah, who would remember a scrawny red-headed girl they traveled around with so long ago? Of course he forgot about me!" Misty shouted to herself. Her reason was logical and sound. He certainly was always capable of pushing forward through every obstacle, so why couldn't she?

"Is it because I care for him?" Misty asked herself. Her chest constricted, it panged her just to mention it. How ridiculous did that sound?

She scowled herself. She tried to move on, she tried to meet other people, and she did. They were definitely nice guys; treating her with kindness, respect and dignity. Even if Ash didn't treat her with the same kind of manor, she knew he was trying is best and that was enough for her; because it was from him and that was all that mattered. Misty knew any other boyfriend she would have would like her, and maybe she could easily like him, admire him, and care for him. But she could never--

"Stop," Misty broke her thoughts. "I can do this, I really can," she repeated over. Repetition can be a source of strength.

Ever since she left the group an overwhelming sense of emptiness grew in her life. It first was unbearable, but time softened the wound, making life not an everyday obstacle to overcome. But it did not leave her. But her life was not horrible. Far from it; she achieved residency as the primary Gym Leader in the Cerulean Gym. She had won many pokemon battles and lived a comfortable life.

A comfortable life alone. There was not a day that passed Misty did not think of Ash. Where he was, what he might be doing, if he was thinking of her. He could be half-way around the world or next door and she wouldn't know about it. They might as well be strangers in another town. They might as well be living in another world.

Misty hated how a good friend had been reduced to a stranger. Not only did she loose someone she dearly cared about, she lost a friend.

Misty lay on her couch, staring into the ceiling. Her room sustained an eerie silence. All she could think about was Ash. She would have continued to dwell on him if not for the shattering interruption of a phone call.

The telephone rang three times. Misty did not move. She knew it wasn't Ash calling her, so why pick it up? Her answering machine took the initiative.

'Hello, you've reached the phone of Misty Kasumi Waterf-'

"Hello?" Misty summoned the strength to take the phone. There was only silence on the other line.

"Hello?" Misty asked again. She waited, each second making time for reality to sink through her exterior. Misty tapped the button to the phone to hang it up, hearing the whine of the telephone in her head.

She sighed and spoke into it. "Hi Ash, its Misty. I know you probably have forgotten about me," she paused. "But I want to tell you--I want to tell you that I care about you, Ash. You're all I think about and I hate that somehow we fell away from one another. But it's true. I have wanted to tell you this for so long, and it's ridiculous that I didn't say it earlier where it would be appropriate. But don't care about that! I want you to know I love you, I love you so much!"

A single tear forged itself from the corner of her eye and rolled off her face. Misty wept softly before putting the phone back into its place. In an instant, she was stripped from her energy and became exhausted. She fell back to her couch grasping the pillow near her chest. He wanted a lover's lap to lay her head, she wanted to be comforted, and she wanted love. Misty fell asleep to the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her eyes became too heavy to sustain and they ended her day.

The moon hung like a notorious lantern, suspended softly in the cold. It still was a young night and a young life but to Misty it was dead. Her faith and optimism died with the shattering of a vacant phone call, but would always cultivate in another convenient time. There was no love, pain, or hope. The feeling of emptiness grew larger under many years of wanting, not having. Drowning in a pool of dismay and forging the desire lost years ago to her fears and doubts. Misty echoed the name she lost, never telling him of how she felt and if he replied with her feelings, and thus could not let him go.

end

---

**we might as well be strangers**

_i don't know your face, no more  
or feel the touch, that I adore  
i don't know your face, no more  
it's just a place, I'm looking for _

we might as well be strangers, in another town  
we might as well be living, in a different world  
we might as well  
we might as well  
we might as well

i don't know your thoughts these days  
we're strangers in, an empty space  
i don't understand your heart  
it's easier, to be apart

we might as well be strangers, in another town  
we might as well be living, in another time  
we might as well  
we might as well  
we might as well, be strangers - be strangers

for all I know of you now  
for all I know of you now  
for all I know of you now  
for all I know

---

**disclaimer** - well, I've diverted back to the angsty stuff. I needed a break from whatever I was doing. Forgive my shortness for the writing the thoughts of a girl (since it's obvious I'm not one) and probably did not come out realistic or convincing. Oh well, I tried ;) Oh, and did you read 'burning in the hanging fire, like I said? If you did you'd realize the figure Misty almost ran over was Ash, and the person who called her is indeed Ash Ketchum as well. There are also some small correlations, but I'll leave that for you to discover.

---

"for a lonely soul you're having such a nice time" – nothing in my way


End file.
